Not So Happily Ever After
by Lioness222
Summary: After the death of the Wicked Witch of the West, Glinda can't get the green-skinned girl out of her mind. Upset over the loss of her best friend, she tries to puzzle out exactly what happened.
1. Chapter 1: The First Night

**Not So Happily Ever After**

_After the death of the Wicked Witch of the West, Glinda can't get the green-skinned girl out of her mind. Upset over the loss of her best friend, she tries to puzzle out exactly what happened._

Rated T, because I'm expecting this to get a little bit more mature._  
_

**Author's Note:** Alright, so I meandered my way back here and found this story again, re-read it, remembered I liked it, and now here I am, ready to start again :) I fixed some typos that were bothering me, and I'm working on another chapter, so let's see how this goes :) Hope you enjoy it!

* * *

She sat staring out her window, sitting on the fluffy pillows that covered the sill. Outside, it was a quiet night, the stars glimmering in the sky as they made up the different constellations the blonde didn't bother to remember the names of.

The woman had traded her enormous pouf of a dress for a simple nightgown with a silk robe over it, grateful for the lightness of the gown after her tiring day. Her usually neatly curled hair hung limp around her face and she made no effort to fix it. Her makeup from the day had worn away, though it was easy to see that she had been wearing quite a bit of it just a few hours ago.

Just a few hours ago…

Just a few hours ago the woman had learned of the death of the Witch, the one everyone feared. They tyrant who thrived on foiling the plans of the good Wizard with her own dastardly schemes. But of course, he was gone, too. Flown away in a great bloody balloon, leaving the girl to try and get home her own way. Had not the blonde been there, the little girl would've never gotten home, taking that wretched dog and horrible sense of fashion with her.

"Miss Glinda," a voice said gently. The woman turned to see the metal body of the Tinman, shining slightly even in the dim light cast by the stars outside. "I hope I'm not intruding on anything?"

"Of course not," the woman said. "You're fine."

"I was just coming to tell you the Lion has begun making preparations for the new-"

"Please," Glinda interrupted, "don't say any more. I don't know that I care much about that type of stuff anymore." She turned to look out the window again, staring back up at the endless sky. Somewhere under the sky the Wizard slept, the girl cradled her dog, the tiny Munchkinlanders tended to their even smaller children, the dirty Quadlings slopped around in the mucklands. But the one creature Glinda was thinking about the hardest was nowhere.

The Tinman remained silent for a long moment. "It was an accident," he offered after a while, obviously trying to be helpful or soothing. "She didn't mean to kill her you know."

"I've heard." What did he think he was doing? Justifying the murder of the green-skinned woman? What exactly had the girl assumed she would do instead of kill her when she set out on the quest for the Witch's broom? Just ask her politely to stop it and be a good little girl? If anyone knew the green-skinned girl, it was Glinda, and she knew the Witch would fight tooth and nail for whatever she had set her mind to, and would never give up. The Witch had never been one to be a 'good little girl' even, as Glinda was told, as a newborn. Glinda couldn't quite understand the mentality behind the girl's actions, or the mentality behind any of their actions. She especially couldn't quite puzzle out the involvement of the Tinman, the Lion, and the Scarecrow.

"Boq," she murmured softly. "Tell me something?"

"Anything, Miss Glinda."

"Why did it end up like this?" The beautiful blue eyes sparkled with unshed tears as the woman brought her knees up so she could balance better on the over-large windowsill. "Why did you all do this to her?"

The Tinman shifted uncomfortably, the hinges at his joints squeaking slightly. "Anger is a powerful weapon," he said slowly. "It was anger that brought her to the position she ended up in, and the anger of the Ozians that brought her down."

"Why were you angry?" Glinda demanded. "What had she done to make you hate her so?" The tears began forcing their way past her eyes and she quickly wiped them away.

"Look at what she did to me!" the Tinman exclaimed, banging his chest as if to further his point.

"You know very well who did that to you," the blonde said coldly. "You know who started your curse, and then who saved your ungrateful ass."

Boq was taken aback at the venom in the blonde's voice. He wished she would just turn to look at him, so her anger would feel less like he was a child being yelled at by a professor.

"What was the Lion's excuse?" the blonde continued. "Did freedom from incompetent students not interest him?" She paused for a long moment, still not looking back. "What about the Scarecrow?" she asked softly. "Why- Why did he do that to her? She loved him…"

The Tinman paused for a long moment. "I don't know that," he said, "but I do know that Fiyero is gone."

This startled the woman. "He's gone?" she asked incredulously, finally turning to look at the metal man.

"He disappeared soon after the girl did," he said. "Didn't say a word to anyone, just left and didn't come back."

Glinda stared at Boq for a long moment. "Were there any remains?" she asked suddenly. She simply couldn't believe Fiyero would up and leave the second everything was over. Even his now-scattered, straw-brain would have realized that he would be needed by the people. He was now seen as a hero, being part of the team that had slain the Wicked Witch of the West, and people didn't take to having their heroes taken away very easily.

"Of the Witch?"

"No, of the woman," the blonde replied stubbornly. While the green woman had been insufferable at times, Glinda would never refer to her as 'the Witch'. Not now, not ever.

"No," the man said, "there weren't any. She was completely gone, reduced to just a cloak." The blonde woman's eyes shone with tears and- the Tinman could've sworn- with pure joy. "Why, is there something wrong with that?"

"No," Glinda said, "it's all perfect!" At the Tinman's confused look she continued, her eyes growing brighter as she did. "They've left together! That's the only explanation! He would do anything for her, as I personally learned in the very cornfield that little hick found him in. She was powerful enough as well so they just up and left together! They left…" She slowed down and the happy fervor died from her eyes. "They left me…"

The blonde ran over in her head the goodbyes she had said to her friend before they parted for the last time. They weren't enough… No goodbye would ever be enough when it came to the green girl she had befriended.

Tears began to slide down Glinda's cheeks and she brought her knees up, hugging them to her chest, burying her face in her kneecaps. "My Elphie," she murmured, the words muffled only slightly by her nightgown. "My dear Elphie…"

Her body quivered as she began to cry in earnest, her heart physically aching as she realized her friend was out there somewhere and she would never see the green face again if Elphaba knew the smart thing to do- which she did. Elphaba would never return to the lands of Oz, and would probably hide out somewhere secret with Fiyero until the two grew old together and she died, leaving the heartbroken and immortal Scarecrow to rot in some tiny cottage or cave somewhere.

Boq slowly crossed the room and put a cold, metal arm across the woman's shoulders. She shivered at the cold touch and moved her robe to cover the areas his tin frame touched, then curled back up into her little ball. He drew her towards him, gently stroking her unkempt hair with his other hand, unsure of how to react to the weeping woman in his arms. How he had longed for her to be so near to him, only to feel so saddened by the sight of her when he had her so close.

Glinda barely noticed the Tinman's actions. All she could think of was the beautiful green face of her best friend, and the horrid unknown lands she and Fiyero now undoubtably faced. She almost wished the Witch dead, so there was no idea that someone else could be with Elphaba while Glinda pined for her. Glinda was used to getting what she wanted, and this was something she wanted more than anything, but something she knew, in her heart of hearts, that she would never get.

A sob wracked her body and she moved closer to the cold metal body that was now Boq, comparing it to the slightly wimpy but still blissfully normal body that had been his just a little while ago. Through her choked gasps and sobs, the Tinman could make out only two words, repeated over and over again:

"Oh Elphie!"


	2. Chapter 2: Hiding Out

The sky that day was thick with clouds. The air was heavy with anticipation of rain. Soft hoof beats could be heard in the otherwise quiet forest. The sound was muffled by the damp leaves all over the ground.

"Keep up son," the man on the first horse said. "If we don't hurry we'll be locked out in the rain."

"Yessir," the boy murmured. His horse dragged her feet, tired from their long journey. The cozy bed he pictured in his mind's eye was very appealing, as was, he was sure, his horse's stall was to the mare. He closed his eyes as dizziness from fatigue swept over him.

The only sound the boy heard was the squelch of mud as he fell from the saddle onto the ground. He didn't bother moving to stand. The mud was too comfortable, and he ached all over from three long days in the saddle. Not that the mare wasn't an easy ride with a sweet disposition. Three days just wore on a person.

"By the Unnamed God, boy!" the man growled, stopping his horse and dismounting. "You stupid prat. Just a bit farther, come on now." The man's voice got softer and kinder as he lifted the boy back to his feet. "We'll get you in a bed soon. Come now, that cloaked person that mile ago looked suspicious- nothing stopping them from following us, now is there. The sooner we're out of the woods, the sooner we get back to a warm fire."

"This is what I wanted to tell you," a voice said suddenly. A cloaked figure emerged from the shadows. The two spun towards the figure and the boy stumbled slightly.

"Hold him up sir," the figure said.

"Who are you?" the man demanded, drawing the boy behind him. The figure was a female. He could tell by the voice. But he couldn't make out any other details- their cloak was too big, the brim of their hat too wide.

"I just wanted to tell you that your boy looked tired," the person said. "And give you this."

The man drew away as the figure reached into their cloak, pulling out something from a hidden pocket.

"I hope you'll understand," the woman said, holding out the object, "I don't mean to make you out as a bad person by… 'out-kinding' you, if you don't mind that made up word. I just saw he looked close to dropping."

The man saw the canteen and eyed it suspiciously. "What's in it?" he demanded.

"Just a drink I brewed up," the woman said. "It's not poisoned if that's what you're thinking. See?" She tipped a little bit from the canteen into her mouth, being sure not to touch the rim with her lips. She dragged her sleeve across her mouth to wipe off a few drops. "It just gives you a little bit of energy."

The man stared for a moment then stepped forward, his hands outstretched and he took the canteen. He gasped softly as he saw the woman's hand up close. It was… _green._

Before he could say any more, the woman spun on her heel and fled quickly through the trees.

"Thank you!" the man called after her, wondering if it had just been a trick of the light.

It had not been a trick of the light, and the woman pulled her sleeve farther down her arm to cover her hands again, cursing herself for her own stupidity. She had shown herself, like an idiot, and it wouldn't be long before someone heard news of a sighting of her and went to organize an angry mob again. She could already hear the shouts:

"She survived a bucket, let's give her a lake!"

"Never send a girl to do a man's job!"

"_Kill the Witch_!"

The Witch… What a stupid name. Nowadays 'witch' was an evil word, whereas when the green-skinned woman had been in school it had been the word for any woman who could use magic.

Her heavy boots left deep footprints as she walked. They carried the mud across the rock of a cave entrance as she slipped inside, flinging the wide-brimmed hat to the ground. Long black hair fell ridiculously straight down past her shoulders, and her skin was revealed to be the color of the buildings in the great Emerald City.

"Welcome back," a voice from within the cave said pleasantly. "Have a nice walk?"

"It was good enough," the woman remarked, her eyes adjusting to the dark of the cave. The Scarecrow lay against a rock in the back of the cave, his unblinking, painted on eyes watching her.

"Meet anyone?"

"Nope," she muttered. "No one."

"You were gone an awful long time to have not seen anyone."

"Can it Fiyero."

"Elphaba," he said sternly. "Who did you talk to?"

"Just these two people," she said vaguely. "A man and a boy, tired from a long ride on horseback from the looks of them. The boy fell from his saddle and I gave him my canteen."

"Elphie," Fiyero said, sounding slightly upset. "We needed that. Those ingredients didn't come cheap, and the canteen could hold water when we used them up. We need our energy as much as those two need theirs."

"The boy was falling out of the saddle," the green woman said angrily.

"And what a time for your motherly instincts to kick in," Fiyero said. "We're hiding out from all of Oz and you go out and strike up conversations with the first passerby you see. Elphie, if Glinda hears news of you, who knows who she'll send down to kill you next? Maybe someone with a bit more knowledge than some little hillbilly girl and her dumb dog."

"Glinda wouldn't do that," Elphaba hissed. "Glinda is exactly as she says she is- _good_."

Fiyero stared at her, playing with the strands of straw that had fallen from his body with gloved hands that lost straw of their own. "She sent the girl," he pointed out.

"She sent her on the Wizard's orders," Elphaba shot back. "Glinda wouldn't do anything to hurt me on her own. She's not smart enough to tie her own shoes never mind plan a murder, and you know that as well as I do. Besides, haven't you forgotten that she was once my best friend, and I hers? Glinda's shallow, yes, but she's not _evil_."

"Elphaba," Fiyero said quietly. "The Glinda you're talking about isn't the _Ga_linda you knew from Shiz." He stood up and walked to the green woman, drawing her close to him as her eyes watered. He wiped away the tears as they rolled down her cheeks, knowing how they would hurt her.

Fiyero wasn't used to Elphaba being like this, and he didn't quite like this version of her. It was highly uncharacteristic of her to show any emotion but anger, and here she was _crying_. He didn't know how to respond to her, quite frankly. He drew her against him, hugging her as she buried her face in his shoulder.

"She's my _best_ _friend_," Elphaba murmured, her voice muffled by the burlap sack that had been used to make the straw-man's clothing. "She _can't_ hurt me."

"I know Elphie, but politics have a habit of bringing out the worst in people." He cradled her for a moment. "She'll have to keep her mindless masses in line. She'll most likely take the place of the Wizard- no country could possibly go from a dictatorship to a democracy with little problem, and Oz is no exception."

Elphaba sagged against the Scarecrow and he held her up long enough for her to make it back to the pile of blankets they had stolen from houses nearby.

"See?" Fiyero said sweetly as he laid the woman down on the blankets. "You shouldn't have given away the energy drink. You've run yourself ragged, and now you should get some sleep."

Elphaba nodded to the Scarecrow. "Wake me up at nightfall- I want to see if I can't find anything useful in a house I spotted a few hours ago."

Fiyero nodded as she curled up- well, more drew her bony knees closer to her bony frame. Elphaba was too lean and skinny to curl up.

He watched her for a moment and knew he wouldn't wake her up any time soon. She had been going for a long time, always hoping to find something to make their life in hiding more comfortable, always listening for gossip about Animals that were in need, always hoping that a message would reach her ears that Glinda was mourning for her. She needed rest, and by the Unnamed God, Fiyero would force her to get it.


	3. Chapter 3: Her Goodness

"Miss Glinda."

The quiet voice of the woman's maid stirred the blond from her sleep. Always a light sleeper, Glinda had unhappy dreams that had forced her into a trouble and shallow sleep.

"Miss Glinda, you have company due in a few hours."

"I know," the woman muttered, getting slowly to her feet. "Draw my bath."

As the maid scurried off to the washing room, Glinda crossed her room to her desk where a mirror hung above the make-up and perfumes scattered across the desk. She glanced at her reflection and let out a tired sigh. There were heavy bags under her bloodshot eyes, and her skin was paler than she had ever seen it. Her hair hung loose and limp around her face except on the top of her head, where it frizzed out from constant tossing and turning that night.

The blond reached for her brush and dragged it halfheartedly through her hair, waiting for word from the maid that her bath was drawn. After a few minutes, the woman returned to the room, touching Glinda's shoulder gently.

"All set, my lady."

Glinda looked up at the woman, then back at her reflection. At least one of them looked rested.

The blond stood up and went to her bathrobe, pulling her nightgown off. She climbed into her bathtub, easing herself gently in as her body adjusted to the steaming water. She reclined against the wall of the tub, resting her head on the edge.

Though she sat quietly, Glinda's mind whirled. She couldn't get her theory out of her head. She couldn't believe that Elphaba was dead now. It all seemed too strange. This wasn't just denial from fear of losing her friend, she just couldn't believe it.

What could she do though?

By the time Glinda had decided what she would do, the water had cooled to a lukewarm temperature, though she hardly noticed that. She was in an odd state of extreme focus that she had rarely been in. She hardly noticed dressing, walking down to her private breakfast hall, or sitting down and being served. She only focused again when the coffee she sipped burned her tongue.

Her meal was eaten in silence. She had a meeting later on in the day to discuss the new government and who should lead it.

And if everything went as planned, she would have much more power than she currently did.

"Excuse me, but if I may?"

"Of course Lion," Glinda said, "be our guest."

The Lion stood up, pushing his chair back and bracing both paws on the table in front of him. He cut an imposing figure now, nothing like the cowering, frightened whelp who had wandered back into the Emerald City with Dorothy a few days before.

"Well," he began, "I must say that this provisional government seems to be headed in the wrong direction. All of the calls for votes and checks and such… It's a waste of time. Nothing will get done if it is allowed to stay like this."

"But it ensures fairness and equality," the Tinman put in.

"Yes, but at a pace that even a snail could outrun," the Lion countered. "When a problem arises, there is a call for a vote, and then that call is answered by however many people can respond at that time. But not everyone can respond every time the vote is called, and by the time they are found, the time for voting is past. Perhaps you all were too busy celebrating to have heard the call to vote to see whether this democracy thing would be popular enough to keep."

Glinda huffed softly at the stupidity and irony of a call to vote on democracy.

"So I'm proposing that a leader be set forth to take the Wizard's place," the Lion continued. He stood a little straighter. "Someone with strength. Someone with cunning. Someone with courage. Perhaps even the courage of-"

"A Lion?" Glinda asked suddenly.

"Well, now that you mention it, I do think that I-"

"And now we've heard quite enough out of you," Glinda spat. "Should we elect a leader, it should be someone who did not have to go _begging_ for courage from some _fraud_." Her voice adopted an icy tone as she said that. She sat back in her seat, her arms crossed before her, her eyebrows raised and her eyes holding an accusatory glimmer.

The Lion opened his mouth to say something, but, meeting her icy gaze, he shut his mouth, his teeth snapping together with a metallic click. He hurriedly took his seat.

"I see that the Wizard's gift does not extend much farther than an initial burst," she said, a tight smile crossing her face. It faded quickly. "Whatever you all do, you won't last long. If your toadying to the Wizard is any indication of how you would all be in power, I believe I'd rather be crushed by a house than live in Oz under your rule."

She forgave herself the house comment on the grounds that she had been friends with Nessa.

"Well who should we put in the Wizard's place then?" asked a portly man with a mustache and without a neck. "Would you like us to find Dorothy once more and put her in his place?"

Chuckles erupted around the table.

"That will not be necessary, Lancer," Glinda said, a small, sardonic smile spreading across her face. "It seems to me that a woman's touch is though." She paused, waiting to hear an objection—assuming they put together what she meant. When nothing was said, she stood.

"From this moment, I shall rule Oz as Her Goodness, Lady Glinda of Oz."

There were a few murmurs of discontent, but after seeing the look on Glinda's face, the protests died down.

"Your Goodness," the Tinman said, "may I ask why you would like to take this position?"

"Because none of these incompetent fools would be able manage the job," she informed him coldly. "At least if I'm in charge, I know the only reason something doesn't go the right way, it will be because it isn't possible, not because of laziness or stupidity."

Boq nodded, lowering his eyes from the fierce blue gaze. She thrilled him now, more than she ever had before, though she frightened him, too. She seemed to have a sort of cold fury burning within her that was pushing her to this announcement, and he couldn't tell where it had come from. Since when was she so bitter? Since when was she so cold and angry?

Since Elphie's death.

Boq's eyelids let out a small squeak as his eyes widened. This had to have something to do with Elphaba. Thinking back on the conversation he had with Glinda the night before, he couldn't see any other reason. She had never cared for the thought of power before—though she could have and just never said anything… Boq doubted it.

He wondered what Glinda had planned now, though, looking into the blond woman's eyes once more, he wasn't sure he actually wanted to know.


	4. Chapter 4: Recieving News

It was quiet but for the crackling of the fire the two huddled figures read by. They stared at the newspaper laid out before them, stolen from a doorstep in a small town just a few miles away by the gloved, straw-filled hands that smoothed the paper now.

"Well," Fiyero said, breaking the silence, "I told you she would take control." He could see the cogs working in Elphaba's brain as she re-read the front-page article she had already gone over at least four times. "Elphaba?"

She waved a hand at him to hush him and continued to read. Finishing the article for the fifth time a moment later, she finally looked up.

"It's for the best," she said simply. With that, she moved to lean against the wall of the cave that had become their home.

"The best?" Fiyero asked. "The best would mean she was nowhere near the viper's nest they call politics."

"Don't act like you're so knowledgeable," Elphaba spat. "You're a prince, but you're from the hills and the tribe lands. The most you know about politics is how far up a man's arm to cut when he's been caught stealing, oh Lord of the Arjikis."

Fiyero simply stared, his face impassive. He was used to her prickly side-it was the side he normally got. He sometimes wondered if she had Porcupine in her blood. But while he was at it he could say she had Frog in her blood too, which is how her skin came to be such a color.

"If she's in charge," Elphaba continued, "she'll spend all her time being sweet and kissing babies. She won't look at or meddle with real problems. She doesn't have the intelligence to. So for a while at least, things will look pretty in Oz."

She looked once more at the newspaper. In enormous, bold type, the headline read, "_HER GOODNESS, NOW HER GRACE?_" A tagline below said, "_Glinda the Good takes over Oz with the hurried departure of the Wizard._" Beneath that was a caricature of Her Goodness (which Elphaba saw from the article was now being used as a royal title) with blond curls and an oversized tiara, a wand in one hand and the other waving to a hot air balloon in the distance. The image looked nothing like Glinda, and Elphaba wondered if the artist had ever even seen the blond.

"So you think this is a good thing?" Fiyero asked skeptically.

"I never said that. I said it was for the best. At least now pretty things will be happening. There won't be any talk of enslaving and murdering Animals. People will be too busy talking of the parades and balls and carnivals that will be thrown. You know how she loves a party."

"Elphaba, do you even realize how ridiculous you sound?" Fiyero demanded.

She fixed him with a distant look. "I do," she said. "But it isn't going to stop. It's this damned thing inside me that's making me talk like this. It keeps saying that with her in charge I can live out my days in peace. She'll keep the spotlight on the happy, and I can take my place in the dark, where no one will see me. It makes me think I'll be able to be happy. Or at least comfortable until I finally die."

"Hope." Fiyero's murmur was soft, but Elphaba heard and snorted.

"No, really," Fiyero said. "You're feeling hope."

"I've gone years without it," she said, an amused hint to her voice. "I doubt it would make a reappearance from my school days _now_ of all times."

"Say what you want Elphie," he said, watching as she grimaced at the nickname. She hated it, but he used it all the time. He hoped to remind her of better times with it, or, failing that, to remind her that someone cared enough to use a pet name when referring to her. "You're hopeful. Even if it is just for something as simple as peace."

Elphaba shook her head and turned away from him, jack knifing herself into a semi-comfortable position and pretending to be asleep. Fiyero was as used to this as he was to her prickliness. When she grew bored of a topic she walked away or turned her back, ending the conversation. He just left it-she would return to it another time if it really mattered.

"Good night Elphie," he said, curling up on the opposite wall. "I do love you."

She didn't respond, but somehow he knew she had heard, and he knew she felt the same about him.

She would have incinerated him by now if she didn't.

* * *

Elphaba's dreams were, as usual, nightmares. She rarely slept well, and when she did, it was accompanied by only blackness. Dreams had a habit of taking a turn for the worse.

In the weeks following the announcement of Glinda's ascendancy, and then the announcement of her coronation as "Her Goodness, Lady Glinda of Oz," Elphaba's dreams had been haunted with her old friend. She would see images of Glinda in her school clothes, laughing with Madame Morrible as she slit Doctor Dillamond's throat. Other times Glinda would be in the throes of lovemaking with a shadowy figure, and as she screamed her passion, the man would come into focus and be revealed to be the Wizard. Worst of all, Elphaba would see Glinda curled next to her on that train ride to the Emerald City, asleep on her shoulder until her eyes snapped open, irises and whites as black as the pupils, and the blond would foam at the mouth and attack the green-skinned girl.

Elphaba never woke from these dreams. She had long ago realized that even when a dream turned utterly horrifying, she would never wake up from it until her body had finished resting. Even if she died in a dream, she stayed locked in her subconscious, replaying the dream until she finally had gotten enough rest. Once she had heard that if a person died in their dream, they died in the real world. She found this to be-unfortunately-false.  
More often than not, when she awoke, Fiyero was by her side, holding his green-skinned lover against himself. He always understood her moods in the morning as she shook off the terror of the night before and didn t take offense when she pushed him away. He knew she was recovering from disturbing visions and chose not to bother her. He also knew she felt comforted waking up and knowing he had been there to protect her body from outside dangers while she slept, knowing he would protect her from internal frights if he could have. She had alluded to this once before hurriedly changing the subject-her own strange way of thanking him for being there for her.

On one morning, Elphaba woke from another nightmare, this one about Glinda on the back of the Lion, who snarled and snapped at Elphaba from beyond the bars of a cage that held her captive. The blond would occasionally pat the Lion and order him to keep tearing at the cage, to keep trying to reach Elphaba inside.

This time, there was no Fiyero when she woke.

Though she hated feeling dependent on another, Elphaba knew she would have felt better had he been there. She really did love him, even if she denied herself the ability to express it, and even if she feigned indifference to his presence much of the time. If she hadn t found that allowing herself that emotion came back to bite her in the ass, perhaps she would have shown it more often, but the love and loss of her teacher, father, sister, and best friend kept her from it. She couldn t help it any more than she could help being born green.

She couldn t help the worry she felt either. He never just disappeared like that; he always left a note or woke her to tell her where he was going. He never just disappeared Working the fire up, Elphaba gnawed on her lower lip, wondering when Fiyero would be back. If he would be back. She couldn t stop herself from thinking that maybe he had gotten tied up in a cornfield again. She had no Grimmerie to cast a spell to help him this time. He would be screwed if he found himself in trouble like that again.

Finally, she heard the tell-tale scraping of straw ends on the ground, and she craned her neck to look for him. He had a large rolled up piece of paper in one hand, a newspaper in the other, and he moved slowly.

"Elphaba," he said.

"Good morning," she called, looking back down at the fire as if she hadn't heard the weight in his voice. "Missed you while you were gone. I could have used a note." Despite her admission that she had missed him, she maintained an uncaring air. "Have you anything to eat? I'm starved."

"_Elphaba_."

She looked up at him again, raising one eyebrow expectantly. Without a word he handed her the rolled up paper.

At the top of the page, in letters as big as her largest finger were the words, "_REWARD FOR THE WHEREABOUTS OF THE WITCH OF THE WEST_." The moment of silence stretched on for what seemed like an eternity. He handed her the newspaper and sat down with his back against the wall.

Elphaba looked at the poster the wanted poster for her for a long moment. There was her image (drawn better than the caricature of Glinda) with the words, "_Her Goodness offers a cash reward for information on the Wicked Witch of the West. Contact local officials with news_." She couldn t understand it. What was Glinda doing searching for her? She was supposed to think Elphaba was dead!

She whirled to look at Fiyero in bewilderment and he pointed to the newspaper tiredly, obviously not in the mood to be the one explaining.

Elphaba unfolded the newspaper, almost tearing it in her haste. The article about her was on the front page.

"_Early this morning, Her Goodness announced that all may not be as well as it seems in Oz. From the Declaration Balcony of the royal palace, she told crowds of adoring citizens some surprising news._

_'Information has been provided that shows that the Witch of the West survived the dousing,' she said. 'We must catch her before she is allowed to do any more damage to the country. But we must also warn you all: she is still dangerous. Do not approach her under any circumstances. Send word to your local official or send the information directly to the palace. We do not want more lives lost because of the Witch.'_

_ The Wicked Witch of the West was the target of another royal's campaign when the Wizard was still in power. A loud voice for-get ready for it, readers-Animal rights, she was known to have attacked the Wizard in his own throne room. She kidnapped the beloved Dorothy Gale when the girl went to her castle to reason with her. Apparently the girl's charm was not enough to calm the beast._

_But how did she come back from death? No one knows. The reward for her is for her alive though, so testing by locals won't be possible if they want to live like kings_.'

Elphaba saw that the rest of the article continued in that vein, questioning her deadness, questioning her liveness. Was it possible she was still alive? It was all blather after the quote from Glinda.

"How do they know?" she asked softly.

"How do they _think_ they know, you mean," Fiyero said. "They have no proof. But I believe we should stay in the cave for as long as we can. No more trips in the daytime. If we hunt, collect, or steal, we do it at night."

Elphaba nodded, still not looking at her lover. He was in danger again. In danger because of _her_. _Again_.

She didn't realize it when she began to tremble. Fiyero was sure it was from anxiety, as she had been sleeping when he had left, and it certainly wasn't cold.

"You should leave," she murmured after a long moment. When Fiyero started laughing her head snapped up and she glared at him. "What's so funny?"

"That you think I'd leave you," he said. "Honestly, you're okay at trap-setting at best. You almost ate berries that would give you painful shits for a week. And you can't do much sneaking because not only are you wanted, but you're _green_."

"And you're an idiot," she replied coolly. "So I believe I'm better off without you."

Deciding he had watched the woman shiver for long enough, Fiyero lurched towards her and took the newspaper, setting it down to the side. Gently, he drew her towards him, holding her close. He felt her resist for a moment before letting herself be coddled and he kissed the top of her head.

"I'm not leaving," he said quietly. "And unless you light me up, I'm not going to get hurt or die on you, so you can put that out of your head, too. We'll figure this out. We'll find a way to find the peace you're hoping for."

Elphaba snorted but kept her comment to herself. At the moment, she had very little hope stirring within her. But he would just refuse to listen if she tried to argue, so she just let him hold her, finally noticing the tremors now that they were winding down.

She really did love him, even if she couldn't figure out how to show it.


	5. Chapter 5: Drugged Dreams

"For the love of Oz, Boq," Glinda murmured, sorting through yet another pile of letters, official messages, and scraps of paper. "Is there a prank? Does everyone know where she is and they're all just hiding her? Sending me different leads to keep me guessing?"

Boq watched his ruler as she sighed and opened a letter, stamped with the official seal of a Munchkinland province. She had done nothing since her coronation but search for the green woman. Sure, she showed up at functions, she smiled for adoring crowds, she sat in on official meetings, but one thing actually held her attention. Finding Elphaba.

And it wasn't just something that held her-it was something that consumed her. She was obsessed with the idea of finding her friend again. She opened every letter, read every note, sent out dispatches of soldiers to look into every sensible lead. It was beginning to destroy her, and Boq prayed to the Unnamed God that she would give up or find Elphie soon.

Since the announcements for the reward went out, Glinda the Good had gotten an average of four and a half hours of sleep a night. She skipped at least two meals a day, just looking through responses, and her once healthy glow had dimmed. Her eyes were sunken and she had dark circles beneath them. Her curls had to be maintained with more and more styling products, and she wore more make up than ever to hide the fact that her body was wasting away.

It killed Boq to see her like this. She loved a friend more than she could even think to love him. She was destroying herself over Elphaba, who clearly didn't care, as she had left Glinda in the first place.

"Look at this!" she cried, indicating a scrap of paper. "Intimate relations? She only ever had intimate relations with one person in her life! Why would she have a one-night stand with a complete stranger? I should have him arrested for slander!"

"You know of her intimate relations?" Boq asked curiously. Perhaps it was a weird time for his teenage self to make an entrance, but he couldn't help it. She wouldn't have 'intimate relations' with anyone. People disgusted her. If anything, he figured that Elphaba was asexual.

"Believe me, she had relations," Glinda said. Boq wasn't sure he understood her when she said it but she was plowing on already. "And you know, this is the fifteenth person to say that? Some even insinuated she's selling her body to get by!"

Boq held down his vomit at the very thought. Had he any human parts anymore, he would have preferred them buried in a woman with a little more meat on her. She was so bony it would be like fucking a coat rack. Not only that, he had this weird feeling she would be into nasty stuff. She'd probably pour boiling potion on someone, or magic their member into a snake or something. Maybe it was the witch persona she had that made him think like that. Probably.

He mentally shook himself. While Glinda was busy looking through leads, Boq was usually left to occupy himself. As he had few friends and was not the kind to work in government, his day was limited to daydreaming in her presence, which she appreciated, tolerated, and despised in turns.

Glinda threw the letter away in disgust and picked up another. She just couldn't find the _one_. The one that would hold the answer to her only problem.

"Oh Boq, if only that wretched Morrible had taught me as well," she said wistfully. "Then I would have no problems with this dratted mail! I could just sort it magically. One pile of all the shit, and then the one single right one in my hand." She stared at her empty hand as if this fantasy would become reality if she stared long enough. Sighing once more, she dove back into the pile.

He moved towards her and looked through the pile himself, finding a few letters that looked interesting, if not promising. He opened one and read it. Elphaba was apparently in the Emerald City, living in the sewers. The next said that she had transformed herself into a pig in an effort to hide, but was still green, and the man who had caught her would be happy to take the pig to the city to show her, if only Her Goodness would pay his way, since he was just a poor, lowly farmer you see. The next informed them that their search was over, because a man had met a woman who was all "bitchy-witchy like" and he had caught her and drowned her when he found she wore a lot of make up, "to hide her compleckshin". Boq made a mental note to send guards to check in and see if any legal action had been taken against the well-meaning murderer.

He took another note and looked it over.

"_Your Goodness,_

_I can't be sure, but I think I may have found your witch. I was riding with my ward, a young boy, and we had been going for days. A stranger appeared when my boy fell, gave us a canteen and left. I only mention this to you because I thought for a moment that the kind stranger's hand was green, but figured it was a trick of the light. And we drank the stuff in the canteen and it was all safe, and not only that, it did what she said it would, it gave us energy. I don't know if that could count as a witch's brew, but there you go._

_Now I know you must be swamped with work, your Goodness, but if you find this to be interesting, I was passing through some Munchkinland woods, about twenty miles south of where you welcomed Dorothy Gale. Good luck in your search, and I hoped this helped_."

There was a scribble at the bottom that Boq took the be a signature. That was interesting. It was the least outlandish, but he still had to wonder if it was any good. Elphaba helping people wasn't a completely foreign idea per se, but it was a strange notion.

"Glinda," he began.

"What is it?" she asked, sounding a little tired and a little condescending.

"Maybe you'd want to look at this?"

He handed over the paper and she scanned it once, then once more. He could see a small spark of hope in her eyes, but he had seen it countless times in the past months, only to turn up with nothing.

"I'll send a group down to scan the woods," she said, smiling a little. She put the letter off to the side with a few other messages she had found interesting, then went right back to reading.

Boq watched her for a moment then suddenly stood. He took the letter in her hand and threw it on the floor. Ignoring her protesting, "_Boq_! Let me _be_!" he took her arm firmly in his hand and lifted her, steering her out of the room.

"You are going to sit at a table and eat," he informed her, his voice leaving no room for debate. "And then you are going to sleep."

"Boq, I have things to do-"

"Not anymore you don't."

He dragged her toward the kitchens, ignoring her as she struggled and whined. She was stick thin and ridiculously easy to move, so he protests were feeble, but still enough to be a nuisance.

Finally, he reached the kitchens. "Her Goodness needs food," he told the cook as he sat Glinda down.

Without a word, the cook plopped a bowl of soup and some bread in front of the blond, casting a grateful glance to Boq. Though few knew the reason their beloved leader was losing weight and looking ill, almost every Ozian had noticed it and worried about her. The country's love for their leader was strong, and their concern was stronger.

"Boq, I really have to get back to-"

"To _what_?" he interrupted, standing menacingly behind her to block her from standing up. "Running along this wild goose chase of yours? Elphaba Thropp is _dead_, Glinda. The not coming back kind. She's dead and gone and hopefully with her sister, father, and mother in whatever place there is that comes after this. But you're _alive_, and people here _love you_ and are _worried about you_, so you need to eat, and you need to sleep, and you have to _stop chasing fantasies_."

Glinda reeled as if struck. She sat quietly for a moment, put in her place by one of the most insistent young men she had ever met, then slowly began to nibble on the bread. She wasn't hungry but Boq was hovering over her, still blocking her way out. He seemed determined to make sure she didn't leave until she had eaten every bite.

She worked her way through the small meal, realizing just how small her stomach had wasted away to. She was barely able to finish off the soup.

She realized after a moment that Boq was no longer standing behind her. She looked up and saw him preparing something, tossing sugar on a pastry. When he finished he approached her and set the pastry down in front of her.

"A sweet, and then you go to sleep," he said.

"Boq, I'm not tired," she said, reaching to take the pastry. It did look good, even though she wasn't hungry at all. She could never resist the temptation of a nice dessert.

"So?" he asked. "You'll lie down and rest at least. Now eat up."

Glinda sighed and did as she was told. She delighted in the taste, realizing she had forgotten how good food could be. Bad it really been that long since she had eaten a proper meal or had a dessert? She couldn't tell. It was getting difficult to remember. And think. It was getting very difficult to think...

She took another bite, trying to remember when she last was in the desert. That was what she was trying to figure out, right? Or when she last saw Patsy, who sold the buns? What was it?

It was only after she realized her eyes were closed that she realized what had happened.

"Boq!" she murmured. "What did you do to me?"

"I'm forcing you to sleep," he said. "You'll get a good ten hours out of what I put on there. So don't fight it, okay? Just sleep."

"You bastard," she yawned, without the strength to yell it. "You shouldn't have done..."

She slumped to the table mid-sentence, already asleep.

"Shall I fetch someone sir?" the cook asked, casting yet another grateful glance at the man made of tin.

"No, thank you," Boq said quietly, moving toward Glinda and hoisting her up. "I've got her. And I can be gentle with her."

"Make sure you get that ten hours," the cook said. "And I'll make sure she has something ready for her to eat when she wakes."

"Thank you," Boq said.

The cook nodded and the tin man started toward his beloved's quarters to lay her down.

* * *

The train jostled along, but Glinda could feel the comforting arms of her lover around her. They were warm and strong, and she couldn't imagine a more wonderful place than right there. The movements and the screeching of the train didn't bother her at all as long as she had those arms around her, as long as she had that hot breath in her ear. It was strange how another person's company could affect a being. How one person could make things right without even trying.

Glinda sighed softly, snuggled close in the warm embrace. She was positioned so she could see out of the window, and she watched through sleepy, contented eyes as a house spun out of control past the pane. A woman dressed in vibrant red danced by, waving a wand. A man made of metal lumbered past, followed closely by a vacant wheelchair that moved on its own, the wheels turning in a fashion that made them look as though they were being turned by an invisible person.

When a whole drove of Munchkinlanders gamboled by, Glinda wondered why they were so short. What had made them so tiny? She posed the question to her love and got a chuckle in reply.

"Perhaps they all got squished by houses," her beloved murmured in Glinda's ear before turning the blond's head and capturing her lips in a kiss.

Glinda leaned into the kiss, a small smile fluttering across her face as her heart fluttered in her chest. This was perfection.

She opened her eyes to look upon her lover, but when she looked, there was no one.

The blackness that greeted Glinda's brilliant blues was slightly scary at first, but then she realized just how warm it was. It was not a cold, bleak darkness. It was a comforting one, one that enveloped a person and held them close, like a mother holds a child.

The warmth persisted as the darkness faded a little. Glinda saw the top of her four-poster bed, a transparent purple sheet that had been draped over the bed posts to provide some privacy. A small fire crackled nearby, and she was wrapped in blankets.

With a small, sad sigh, she realized her lover's embrace had been a dream. Of course it had been. No one had held her in a lover's embrace for years. She hadn't let anyone. It was too strange, not having the one you truly loved to hold and to hold you, so she had passed on it.

"Hello?" she tried quietly. The room was dark, so she assumed it was night time. Boq had drugged her in the afternoon in any case, and if she remembered correctly, he had said ten hours.

"Have a good sleep?" Boq sat by her bedside, a book in his lap that he stared at as he spoke.

"Thanks to you," she snapped. She was cross with him, and he didn't seem to care.

"You'll thank me for real," he said. "You had good dreams at least."

"How would _you_ know?" she demanded, a light blush filling her cheeks. Her dreams were private-especially the ones she had about her beloved. She didn't like to share those as much as she didn't like to share her one true love. As it was she had the person ripped from her grasp-couldn't a dream about them be sacred, something for just her to hold on to?

"You talk in your sleep," he said, turning a page. "A few random nouns and then you moaned."

Glinda's blush deepened.

"Well," she said briskly. "Remind me to never accept food from you again. And let me remind you that poisoning a political leader tends to be illegal, no matter if you're old chums or not. Regardless, I am going back to work, and you should do the same."

Boq put the book down as she began to stand up. He reached out one hand as if to stop her and let it fall, hoping she hadn't noticed the nearly involuntary movement. He wanted to stop her, so she would go back to sleep. She was so peaceful when she slept, so beautiful. The book was only there so she wouldn't know he had stared, entranced by her beauty.

"It's the middle of the night and no one is awake," he said. "Except the night's watch, but they're busy guarding the palace."

"Well then I'll just have to fetch my own things," she countered. "I did learn how to do things for myself, even though I have lived a privileged life."

"I don't doubt that your Goodness but-"

"Stop talking or I'll have _you_ fetch my things for me, and I'll order _you_ around."

She glared at him for a moment before turning to the giant wardrobe at the end of her room. She had fallen asleep in a dress, which was highly uncomfortable now that she had slept in it. She changed into a silk set of pajamas, ignoring Boq's presence even when she was naked. He wouldn't look anyway-he was the tiniest bit worried she would punish him for drugging her, even if it was beneficial to her health, so he didn't want to push it.

Glinda brushed past Boq and towards the door of her bedroom, still ignoring him. She swept out, shutting the door behind her and letting it slam instead of trying to keep it down. She honestly didn t care that it was the middle of the night. She was pissed and didn t care if anyone woke up.

Making her way back to her office, she lit a few lamps and then settled down on the floor against the wall, a place that had become her customary spot when she was in the room. Now sitting next to a giant pile of letters, she sighed, reached for one, opened it, and began to read again.


	6. Chapter 6: Sneaking Out

**Author's Note:** Well here's something I haven't worked on in quite a while. It kinda hit a back burner as Darkness in Seattle picked up. DiS is still going strong (IMO) but I wanted to work on this because I literally saw Wicked like, two weeks ago and I was hit by some Wicked muse :)

Anyway, here's chapter 6!

* * *

"They're fucking searching for you!" Fiyero spat for what seemed to Elphaba like the thousandth time. He paced around the cave, avoiding the small fire.

"And?" she asked calmly, not looking up from the newspaper she had stolen and smuggled back to the cave. It had a headline that read, "Munchkinland Hides Wicked Witch? Royal Palace Guards Arrive By YBR to Search."

"And we need to leave if you want to be safe!" he nearly screamed. "Like, leave Oz! We got cocky and stayed, throwing all the original plans out the window and staying to live in some god forsaken cave in the middle of Munchkinland where they're hunting for you!"

Elphaba eyed him with one eyebrow cocked. She couldn't help but let a small smile sneak onto her face and she forced it back down after a second. His worry for her safety touched something in her. It was a little cute the way he had exploded when she had shown him the headline.

"And you're treating this like a joke!" he cried, throwing up his arms.

"It isn't a joke," she said, her voice still calm. "And I don't treat it like one. I just find your worry..." Unable to bring herself to say she found it touching and unwilling to call it amusing in case it hurt his feelings or something, she trailed off for a moment before continuing. "I understand the danger, I just don't fear it."

"Don't fear it?" Fiyero asked, his tone showing his wonder. "They'll take you back to Glinda and the palace. They'll drown you this time. Or worse! Keep you prisoner for years, or burn you, or torture you, or-"

"What else shall we do then, dear?" Elphaba asked. "Oh, I know, we'll just find a quiet hamlet where a green skinned woman and an animated scarecrow are commonplace. Shouldn't be hard to find, given that people like us are everywhere." Her gaze was steely but lacking in the usual coldness. "Fiyero, I know what they'll do should they find me. I know that they'll do something disgusting or horrifying. But I don't care. When you're the enemy your whole life, these things don't seem so scary."

Fiyero paused and stared for a moment. Elphaba wished he would speak. His scarecrow face was painted on, and she was rarely able to tell what he was feeling by it unless it was an obvious emotion like anger or happiness. She could always tell more from his voice.

"I just can't lose you," he murmured softly. Elphaba heard the sadness and fear in his voice. "Not again."

Elphaba set down her newspaper and stood, moving to his side. She tentatively reached toward him, unsure of what exactly she was supposed to do. Thankfully he took the lead and pulled her close, pressing her into his chest in a tight hug. She allowed him to hug her close for a few moments before pulling away.

"'Yero," she murmured, using a petname she hadn't in many years, "I'm not afraid of whatever is coming. If they find me, they find me. Whatever my fate is, so be it. I won't spend time worrying about it. I'll keep going. And if something does happen to me, I expect you to do the same."

Fiyero could feel a heaviness in his head, a sort of strange pressure on his painted eyes. Since his transformation he had been unable to cry, but he still got the feeling of being about to start.

He wanted so badly to kiss her in that moment but they had realized very early on that a physical relationship would be too odd for them. Fiyero's body didn't work like a human's anymore, and Elphaba couldn't bring herself to show affection in a physical way over more than a few moments. She was already detangling herself from his arms.

"You'll just have to be strong," she said, gazing at him and meeting his eyes evenly.

Fiyero nodded slowly and moved to sit down, resting his head in his hands, trying to find a way to relieve the pressure in his eyes.

There was something that was just too strange about it all. She was so calm about it. He had rarely seen her when she was not calm, but she seemed too calm. Like she really didn't have any fear or care in the world. But what awaited her if she were caught? Incarceration, torture, death, all from the hand of her so-called best friend.

Fiyero suddenly stiffened.

Of course.

_Glinda_.

A pang of jealousy shot through him as he realized that Elphaba would be reunited with Glinda, even as enemies. That was why she didn't care-she would see the first person to show her love, something even her own father could never do. Fiyero may have been her 'lover' and her closest companion, but that was in hiding. Glinda was her true best friend, even though they fought for different teams now.

Elphaba, unaware of his thoughts, hummed a tune as she stroked up the fire, gazing blankly into the crackling heat. Fiyero's worry and tension was almost tangible. But he would see: no real harm would befall the green-skinned girl.

* * *

Despite Fiyero's orders that she stay in the cave, Elphaba was at the edge of a small Munchkin village, peering into a window from a few yards away to see if anyone was home. She was searching for another paper, something to see if any of the royal guards had arrived. She wanted to know what was coming—being in the dark about troop movements was the worst, and she didn't have her broom to help her scout around anymore. Not that she would use it anyway, with all of Oz on the hunt for her.

Seeing no movement inside the dark home, the green-skinned woman slipped along the side of the house. She moved as quietly as a shadow, cursing the full moon above her. She stood out in the regular light of day, but especially in the glow of the moon. A full moon made her stand out like a sore thumb.

Reaching the front door of the house, she slipped a hand into a small pocket on the inside of her dress, just above her right breast. A small hair pin was pulled out and, after checking the knob to see if the door was unlocked—which it wasn't, no surprise—she quickly picked the lock and opened the door.

Though a creak echoed through the house and Elphaba winced, ready to bolt, not another sound was heard. When she thought it was all set again, she moved into the house.

The house was small, and the front hallway extended for only another two yards before it met the kitchen. She tiptoed into the kitchen and saw what she had come for on the table. The newspaper was sprawled out, open to a page about a fair that would be coming to town soon. She quickly rolled it up and moved to the cabinets, rummaging through for food. There wasn't much, but she found a few tins of biscuits that she took, as well as a few bananas.

She hurried to leave the home, wrapping the stolen food in the stolen newspaper. She would read the newspaper back at the cave and pacify Fiyero's anger when he realized what she had done with the food.

Stealing silently back out of the house, she shut the door gently behind her. She made to hurry toward the woods once more when a strange shape caught her attention.

Normally, even a strange shape wouldn't bother her, but this looked like dog, so she assumed it offered no real danger. Not only did it look like a dog though, it also looked as if it was sneaking around, looking for any being who might get in the way of its task.

She watched the dog as it approached a small house, sneaking up to its gate and taking a giant leap over it. Though she lost sight of it for a moment, the dog soon returned with something in its mouth—a rolled up paper.

Deciding to take a chance, Elphaba let out a soft noise like an owl, a low _hoo_ to try and get the dog's attention. She couldn't be sure, but she thought maybe the dog was a _Dog_. What dog went after a newspaper?

The four-legged creature froze and looked in Elphaba's direction. Their gazes met and Elphaba knew for sure that it was a Dog. The look in the Animal's eyes was so intelligent it betrayed its sentience.

They stared at each other for a long moment and finally the Dog began to move slowly towards the green woman, the look in its eyes wary and calculating.

Reaching her, it set the paper down.

"You're the Witch," it said. Its voice showed it to be a female.

"More or less," Elphaba replied. "You're a Dog."

"More or less."

"How many of you are there left?" the woman asked. She could feel herself nearly buzzing with excitement. She hadn't spoken to an Animal in _years_. Chistery hadn't even tried to speak, which had infuriated her to no end. If he had ever been an Animal, there was no telling it.

"That is something I'll keep to myself," the Dog replied.

"You don't understand," Elphaba said. "I'm on your side. I tried to help Animals when I was younger and not in hiding."

"The way I heard it is you tortured Monkeys."

"The Wizard asked me to prove myself by casting a levitation spell. It went wrong."

"So I've heard."

A silence stretched out between them. Elphaba yearned to make the Dog understand she wanted to help, but what could she say? She was in hiding, just as much as this Dog seemed to be. They couldn't help each other, even if they wanted to. And the Dog surely didn't seem to want to help Elphaba.

"If it had been years ago, I would have been able to help you," she finally said, admitting to herself defeat.

"If it had been years ago," the Dog said, "I'm sure you would have. But as it is, Animals stick to themselves."

"So there are more of you?" the woman asked, excited once more.

"I've said too much," the Dog said. "I'd thank you to keep quiet about—" She suddenly broke off her sentence, looking behind Elphaba. She cocked her head to one side and then wagged her tail, panting like a dog, _looking_ like a dog.

Elphaba was bewildered, but only for a moment, as strong hands grabbed her shoulders and held her tight.

"Who's this with what looks like stolen goods?" a man's voice said. He spun her to face him and she saw a beefy man with short hair and a uniform of green emblazoned with gold and lined with gold trim. There was a moment where he and his similarly outfitted companions paused with surprise and fear before suddenly the man grinned.

"A complexion that's green-as-sin," he sneered. "Fitting."

Roughly, he yanked her away from the Dog, ignoring the Animal as it pretended to be an animal. He began to drag her towards a small building near the end of the town's one street, obviously one being used by the Gale Force as a barracks. Elphaba struggled and kicked, cursing the man and his men, desperately trying to tear herself free. Inwardly, she cursed herself for not listening to Fiyero when he warned her to lay low.

Fiyero! As the guards swarmed in to help their leader drag the green woman away, she was suddenly reminded of her lover and knew he would be devastated and furious by the news that she had been foolish enough to let herself be caught.

Looking to the Dog, she prayed it would listen to her.

"Follow my scent backwards," she told the Dog. "Tell him I'm sorry."

"Yeah, tell that dog to tell him I'll enjoy carting you in, too," the soldier laughed, grabbing her by the hair. He gave a sharp yank and her struggles stopped.

She was caught, and with at least ten men around her to keep her detained, there was nothing she could do about it.

* * *

When Fiyero woke, he found himself alone.

He was confused for a moment, sure that he had fallen asleep with Elphaba right by his side. Hadn't he?

Yes, he had.

But where was she now?

He sat up and looked around blearily, trying to shake the sleep and figure out where his green-skinned girl was.

"Good morning," a voice said.

He stared blankly, sure his mind must have been playing tricks on him. He hadn't seen a Dog in years. It was just unheard of to see an Animal admit it was an Animal nowadays.

"Wow, a Dog, it's amazing, it's so rare, are you done staring yet?" The Dog sounded more than a little snappish and unpleasant. "Your green woman asked me to tell you she's sorry."

"Elphaba?" he asked, still confused this early.

"The Witch," the Dog said. "I didn't catch a name. But she was green, and how many green women do you meet?"

"What is she sorry about?" Fiyero asked, growing more worried as he woke up more.

"I'm not sure," the Dog said. "Maybe something to do with being caught by the Gale Force. It's something I would be sorry about."

Fiyero's mouth hung open the tiniest bit as he stared at the Dog.

"Are you capable of anything but staring?" the Dog demanded. "I mean, I know you've painted on eyes, but it's a little low class."

"She was caught by the Gale Force?"

"That's what I just said. Now, if that's all the questions you have?"

She turned and began trotting away, leaving Fiyero alone.

Far, far too alone.


End file.
